


Set the Fire to the Third Bar

by RenRidingHood



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 02:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenRidingHood/pseuds/RenRidingHood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Kingdom Hearts AU about a rebellious kingdom. After Axel, the Prince of the Kingdom Hearts, has his righteous opinions shaken out of him by a head strong young rebel with his heart in the right place; he demands to join in the rebellion against his father's kingdom. This is a Sora/Axel story and song fic. First person, alternating perspectives. There is another copy of this story on my Fanfiction acount "Augustine".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set the Fire to the Third Bar

**Author's Note:**

> The song running through this Chapter is We Are Young by Fun.   
> Sora's perspective.

There is this thing that happens when a child reaches the age of thirteen. It's as if a switch goes off in their brain and, despite all of the better judgment that their parents have drilled into them, all that they want to do is play with fire. It starts out with something small, almost insignificant- something that no one would really miss if it were to be used up. Maybe a candle. A lighter; some matches. Anything that is capable of striking against all of the rough patches that life throws at you to make something powerful and deadly toss back. But the thing about fire is that it isn't something you can ever really control. It has a mind of its own, controlled only by what feeds and gives it life. It's in the air! And even if you are the catalyst, the beginning, the fire you set to burn down the world and everything that is so horrible inside of it was never working for you at all. Playing with fire causes everything to burn.

That's why the flames are so intoxicating.

"Sora, I don't think you want to-"

I guess I couldn't tell you how it all started.

Not really. Not all of it. Most everyone involved seemed to agree that it was just something that had been building and building until someone, somewhere had enough. And that's all it takes. To start a match, you just have to have one good strike. I'm not talking about the fire that was raging behind me, or how my knees buckled as I stumbled into an empty ally with an unconscious man on my shoulder. That would be entirely too easy. It wasn't the thick stench of gasoline that clung to my jeans, making me almost as nauseous as the thought of having to eat runny eggs. It wasn't the blister on my heal that had already burst and was now being rubbed bloody and raw by the rubber soul of my left boot that was a size too big for me. It wasn't the feeling that I couldn't catch my breath, or the stitch that was stabbing at my side as I watched my partner fall in after me, just as desperate for fresh, unpolluted air. These were simple things; just the beginning of a series of small truths that had been worked into my system over years of unconscious repression.

We were all repressed, all of us unaware of the harm and misery that was around us. It wasn't necessarily that we had bad lives; in fact, most of us that were in the small group that our government had recently started calling the Organization had fairly good lives. Our parents were political figures; we attended pristine private schools and public functions. None of us were the children that you would expect to cause this sort of destruction. And that is exactly why we did it. We rebelled for the people who couldn't. For the ones who couldn't see how badly everything had been twisted against them, or worse, the ones who had and did nothing. We were fighting for a cause. We were doing the right thing.

At least, that's what I was telling myself as I crawled over to the man that was chocking on the ground.

 

{Give me a second I-}

 

"Sora…Hey, don't-" Demyx attempted to stop me through his fatigue and slight disgust as I yanked my ski mask over my head and allowed the air to hit my over heated skin. I shoved the hair that was clinging to my sweaty face out of my eyes and looked at the man in front of me…only wishing I hadn't a few seconds later. When we started the fire, I thought that the building was empty. I had checked every nook and cranny of the vast museum and knocked out the guards, dragging them out the back exit, and gave the all clear. Nobody was supposed to get hurt, that wasn't how we operated… So how… in all of those careful sweeps could I have missed the security guard in the bathroom?!

It seemed like we had only just lit the match when he started screaming. No… it wasn't screaming. To say that a person screamed would be to imply they had sufficient air to belt it out. A scream is something that comes out of a frightened person. This sound was beyond that kind of fear. The sound that sent me racing back into the burning building, back through all of that ash and destruction was not a scream.

It was the gargled cry of a dying man.

"Oh shit…" I whispered pulling myself upright as I attempted to assess the situation at hand. When we pulled him out from under the fallen pillar he looked like maybe he would be alright, but now out of the deathly heat, in a more pure air I realized that the thought was completely useless. Now that he was in the light and my blood was pumping one more, I could see the bloody heap that this would be body had become. A person with any kind of sense would have just left him. Accept that this was war and in war some people die. That was the price that we sometimes had to pay for the truth. Nothing but a necessary cost of war. But I just couldn't stomach that.

After a moment of hesitation I tore open his shirt setting eye on the green and purple lump that he had become. This wasn't a chest. This was pudding. Any bone mass that he could have possibly had was gone, now drowning in the blood that was filling his wind pip through his punctured lung. I could hear it in his breathing, the sloshing sound of despair as his bright eyes begged me to help him, to piece his back together. But what could I do? What the hell was a seventeen year old boy supposed to know about putting humpty-dumpty back together when I was the one who pushed him, unknowingly, off the wall.

Feeling helpless and aggravated I looked back at my partner, his eyes set in a hard way that was odd for him. Demyx was usually all smiles and bad jokes, like the ones that got him a good slap in the face every now and again; but even he must have been able to see the helplessness of this situation. So looking back at the man in my arms I did the only thing that I could think of. I plugged his nose and pushed my mouth into his, sucking out huge mouthfuls of blood as I spit them out to the side.

It felt very quiet while I worked on him, the roar of the fire and deafening sirens off in the distance fading against the rush of blood in my ears. There was nothing in the world but this man and myself, each unsteady draft of metallic elixir pushing me farther into the hope of saving him, though he just couldn't be drained fast enough. "Sora…" Demyx muttered as his hand found its way to my shoulder but he yank me away like most of the people in the Organization would have. He just let me keep at it, let me keep trying like he knew how completely vital it was for me to keep him alive.

"Sora." It wasn't Demyx's voice that pulled me out of my thoughts, not enough to make me stop, but enough to make me listen. It was a small, almost insignificant voice that was coming at me from the ear bud that was dangling next to my right ear. "There is nothing more that you can do for this man. It's time to stop now." The voice wasn't calm and understanding or comforting. It wasn't anything that made me cast it into any sort of significant light. The voice was cool and collected with a practiced arrogance that comes with being so high in command… and that had me writhing. "I said stop." His smooth voice said again, but the man was still gurgling.

If he was still trying then so was I.

"Sora," His tone was more forceful as I took yet another mouthful of the sickening liquid, coughing this time as it came out with some of the acid that had worked its way up my throat. "You're making yourself ill! Now stop being completely ridiculous and-"

"Oh just stop trying to sound so High and mighty Terra." Demyx spat at him, patting my back as I let all I had fall out of my stomach and eyes in rolling sobs, "You remember what its like. It's the kid's first kill… Let him try…"

So I tried.

Only it didn't work.

 

{I need to get my story straight!}

 

There is this funny thing that happens after you kill a person.

Somehow, running through all of the denial and self deprecation that wedges its way into your veins, you convince yourself that you were head over heels, completely in love with them. Maybe that's odd, but as I forced my cramping leg muscles to take me through my familiar path home, I could find no other way to describe the knot that was twisting like a knife in my gut. There are certain pains that a person only feels when they lose someone close. When they get broken up with or have to move far away from home… That was the feeling that plagued me as I pulled my exhausted body up the dingy fire escape to the small apartment building, just a block away from the town square office where my father worked, to the eight floor that had been roped off to house my family.

The fourth window, the largest one we had, that faced the now red horizon had been left unlocked for me, tipping me off the Demyx had called ahead and warned either Roxas or Ventus what had happened. Just the thought was almost enough to make me sick. I bent over the rail, looking down at the dark alley lined with dumpsters and yesterday's news paper headlines thinking about how tomorrow they would be asking for my head. Tomorrow they would be demanding to know who had set blaze to their precious possessions, and somewhere out there would be a family morning the loss of a son...a brother…a husband?

I didn't want to think about it!

Ventus' face was enough to fill up the darker part of my mind with the look I knew that he was going to give me as soon as I set foot through that window. Surely he knew- he and Roxas alike, surely they knew that this had been bound to happen eventually. The pair of them where twins, just two years older than me, inducted into the rebellion for three times as long as I had stumbled through it. They never wanted me to fallow them into the knowing side of things, to abandon the bliss that comes with being ignorant. They had to have known that, eventually, my reckless, heroic semantics would kill someone. That they would die in my arms and there would be absolutely nothing I could do about it.

I looked back at the dark window, the lack of light making the glass solid, more reflective and took a good look at myself. My hair was even more of a mess that it usually was from having been plastered down with sweat and dried in the cool night air from the walk home. I hadn't wanted Demyx to drive me. I needed the air around me to blow all the smoke out of my head and maybe, hopefully, take away the image of the dead man with it. But the walk only made me more sore. I look deranged. My eyes wide and bright, blue made more electric by the red rims painted by my tears to match the blood stain of my lips and the taste that I couldn't wash away. I looked scarred. Mauled in some awful way. Like an innocent boy who walked in on his parents fornicating.

A laugh bubbled out of my throat as the thought flashed its way across my mind. It wasn't a good laugh; it might have even been on the verge of hysteria. But the sound of it was enough to get me to open the window and climb into the warmth of my brother's bedroom.

Ventus' room was probably the most interesting room in our entire apartment. Our parents were big on letting their children express who they were, so they gave us the freedom to decorate as we saw fit. It was no secret that Ventus was slightly deranged. He had been born five minutes after Roxas with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck; the doctors called it brain damage, but Roxas like to think of it as an unaccounted for fuck up. But even though Ven had always been just slightly off center, he had an abundant intelligence that radiated out of his very being. He breezed right through grade school and landed an internship at the palace. Not that any of us really knew exactly what that entailed seeing at he wasn't really allowed to talk about it. It seemed like he had his life figured out, like he knew exactly where he was going and had nothing in his way. At least as long as he agreed to stay on his meds to keep him from having his, sometimes violent, fits.

Aqua liked to call his break downs 'mental moments.' I think she did that more for herself than anyone else, knowing that the more cuddly she made the attacks sound, the easier it was to love him. Not that it ever really seemed all that difficult for her to love him. They had been practically inseparable since they were in diapers and the entire family was almost positive that they were going to get married.

The design for his room was actually her idea, "He just needs a place that is filled with a little bit of everything he loves," She had grinned giving him a big kiss on the cheek, "Somewhere he can get all his crazy out safely."

That's how they ended up painting three of the walls in chalkboard paint and glued cork to the widowed one that I stumbled through. They made his room erasable. They gave him the capability of choosing what he wanted to hold onto and found a space for him to spew all of the things he got stuck in his head when days began to run together. Since then, all of the walls had been filled up, taken down and refilled once more. He had everything on them, from the more intricate equations and silly poems, to my awkward, half minded doodles that he refused to let me get rid of. "Why do you even bother arguing?" he quirked his brow after he caught the wad of a person I'd sketched and thrown over my shoulder, "I have it all committed to memory. I'd just make it again, you know, in a less nice looking way…"

Once I asked him why it was so important to him to keep my art, my imperfect renditions of life, when he was more than capable of taking my squiggled lines and reproducing it in a crisper and fresher way. But he just smiled at me, "It isn't the skill that makes an artist midget." He'd grinned poking my cheek that I hadn't known I'd puffed out, "It's the passion they have that moves people." And we left it at that.

I always thought of Ven's room as sort of a safe haven. A place that had a little bit of everything you could possibly need to make you understand things. But as I climbed in covered in a stranger's blood and the soot of my crime and tore off my boots, I felt nothing but the unhappy tread of my bare feet on the soft orange carpet; knowing that tonight, the man who died in my arms would never get to reach his safe place. He would never get to run his toes through the carpet- never get to hug his family…

I took all of that away from him.

"Sora?" Ventus called softly as I slumped into the bathroom that glued our rooms together. I didn't stop. What was there to really say? 'Sorry Ven, I'm too incredibly depressed about the man I murdered to take the time to accept your condolences.' Somehow that just seemed a little harsh. I just grabbed Roxas' one-hitter that he kept in the medicine closet and stepped into the shower with my clothes on, hoping that the burning of pot in my lung could help erase the fire in my heart.

 

{My friends are in the bathroom getting  
higher than the empire state.}

 

With the high to help me float I managed to turn the water on, closing my eyes as the warm rain pounded through my clothes like a second skin, melting all of the troubles away. I stood like that for a few minutes before I could get them off and sling them over the side of the bar so they could dry. Then I began to scrub. The intelligent part of me knew that by scrubbing I would get rid of the smell and the stains, maybe even feel better. But the high was screaming that each slight movement burned through the ash like acid and the only way to wash me free of this dead was the peel off the skin. To become another person completely. Needless to say, it was not the pleasant shower I had so hoped for.

When I turned off the water I felt wrong. Too clean. Too innocent to be this person that death had made me. The high was telling me I should have dressed back up in the blood I'd spent. Aggravation swept through me as I wrapped myself up in one of the fluffy towels my mother stocked in the small cabinet over the toilet. Just what I needed, a bad toke to cap off a night where everything that could have gone more wrong. I felt filthy, but I couldn't dwell on that for too long because as I unlocked the door I was met by my brother's hard gaze.

"Shit Roxas!" I hissed, just barely able to suppress the yelp that was longing to fall out of my lips as he shoved me back into the bathroom and locked the door again. "Is a little privacy too much to ask for?" I spat at him, attempting to shove him out of the way before he could say something to piss me off, but he wouldn't budge.

Unfortunately everything that he said pissed me off.

"What, you want some more time to mope around or are you done?" He asked harshly, shoving me against the wall. "It reeks of pot in here…" He glared at me, looking around until he found his pipe and grabbed it away like that would somehow take away the act, "I thought I told you to stay off of this shit!"

You remember that wonderful, loving relationship that I had with Ventus? Well it was next to impossible to have anything close to that with Roxas. Seriously it was as if he just liked to aggravate people. He would ramble on about everything that he felt you needed to know and never let you say anything about it without giving you an hour long lecture about it all over everything again as if you didn't already know! He was a little OCD like that. In fact he was a little OCD about everything, but that was just a self prognosis. Not that he needed a doctor's note to use it as an excuse to say whatever he thought when he thought it. Ven and our parents were all okay with this. "Why give him more to complain about?" but his lack of a filter worked with everyone but me.

I bit down hard on my tongue to keep myself from saying something that he would undoubtedly hold against me later, waiting until I could form a legible thought to say a word, "What do you want Roxas?" There! Complain about that asshole…was his hair always that color or did it just change when he was sleeping? Holy shit what if everyone's hair changed color when they were- I shook my head to get my wits back, securing the towel around my waist as I waited for a response.

He glared at me another moment and then sighed, his gaze softening slightly. "Demyx called and told us what happened. He wanted to make sure you got home okay." He told me lightly, moving away from me, slipping his pipe into his back pocket.

"How very sweet of him…" I muttered dryly, instantly feeling guilty for not calling him. Only to get another pang as I remembered that I hadn't called Riku. I knew he would be waiting up to hear from me and I hadn't even checked my phone. But I couldn't deal with my over anxious best friend or any of that until I got past my pushy brother. "Anything else you wanted to get off your chest"? I asked him lazily as I slid over to the sink and pushed myself onto it, deciding that it was better just not to move. He would fallow me anyway and I was too spent to put up much of a fight.

"Yes." He said matter-of-factly, "Ven is taking you to the castle tomorrow."

Well that caught my attention. "The castle?" Just the thought of going there had my stomach doing summersaults. I had been to the castle before of course, all of us had. We had a mandatory field trip that we took every year though the grounds and interior so that we could be reminded where all of the power was housed. So that we could be reminded of our place in society, and it was not the top. It wasn't exactly my favorite place in the world, "Why?"

Roxas looked at me carefully, almost as if he were approaching some wild animal before he continued, "We thought it might be good for you to see a doctor-"

"A doctor!" I yelped jumping up, barely catching myself before I began shouting and woke up the entire house, "I don't need a doctor! I'm not a mental case Roxas, a man died in front of me tonight because of something I did; please forgive me for feeling somewhat sentimental." I couldn't help the sarcasm that laced that last part.

"Not for that dumb ass," he growled, instantly making me feel stupid and embarrassed, "That man's blood was in your mouth! We have no idea what he had or who he was, so we're going to get you a blood test." He stiffened looking away, red growing in his cheeks. "Just… be ready by nine." He huffed and turned away, leaving me alone to pick at my new mental scars.

 

{My lover, she's waiting for me, just across the bar,  
my seats been taken by some sunglasses asking 'bout a scar and-}

 

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

"Hey there Blue, I guess by now you're pretty pissed at me… Just remember that your brothers' care about you, and frankly I don't think that seeing a doctor is a bad idea. Don't make a huge deal out of this yo-" I shut it off before I had to sit through yet another lecture from an over eager friend. Demyx had his moments. He was always ready to have your back when something went wrong, and he was one of the only members of the Organization that actually seemed to want me there… It wasn't really that I was bad. I was fast. Really fast. And fairly small for my age. Anytime that they needed a scout, I was the first name on the list. But our leader was an artist. Not like my careless doodles, like a real artist. Everything that he did had flair and every small attack had a meaning that either instilled fear or fed growing hope. He had no time for me to 'play hero', no time for me to save the people that I could. To him death was necessary to get his point across. And when Terra had a point, he made it loud.

I sighed thinking about shouting match that was bound to happen between the pair of us in the morning… But I had more important things to deal with beforehand. "Sora, it's Riku. I just got off the phone with Terra and he told me that something went wrong. Where are you? Call me." Beeeeeeeeeeep.

"Sora, I have no idea where you are. You said you would call me hours ago. If you're home right now and not answering I swear to God I'll-" Beeeeeep. The message cut off there, saving me from whatever threat he had been planning on giving me. And that was it; that was all that was in my inbox besides the list of ten other phone calls where he hung up. He was probably having a fit staring at his phone, turning it off and on, just waiting for some sort of response from his idiot best friend who had a tendency to run into fires.

There was a part of me that knew I should call him back to give him some kind of reassurance that I was alive and, for the most part, alright. Physically okay. But I knew what would happen if I picked up the phone. The minute that Riku took in my shaken and frazzled voice he would hop out his window that was right across the street from us, and plow his way over to see me. And I couldn't see Riku right now. If I saw Riku that I would really lose it. Lose everything. All of the feelings that had been begging to be let free would fall out and I would have to let go.

I would kiss him. Kiss him and tell him that I was sorry I made him feel so damn shitty and scared all the time. I would apologize from becoming this dangerous person that he couldn't rely on. I would apologize for not staying with him and running tech. I would tell him I was sorry. Sorry for always running out on him and trying to save everyone else when I couldn't save myself. Sorry for not being able to tell him any of this because, even though he would be understanding of how confused he made me, it would change everything we had forever. And I couldn't do that. I would not lose him as well. Not along with my senses. Not along with the dead man that was tugging at my heart.

 

{I know I gave it to you months ago…  
I know you're trying to forget!}

 

I hadn't even realized that I'd fallen asleep until the pounding on my bedroom door stirred me out of my fitful dreams, back into my life. Too bad my life wasn't as appealing. "WAKE UP MIDGET!" Roxas shouted through the thin wall and supposedly walked off, leaving me disgruntled and aggravated, glaring at the ceiling. At some point during the night I must have gotten under the covers because the blankets were tangled around me in a way that didn't really seem possible. This was usually what happened when I went to bed upset. I would toss and turn until eventually the blanket tied me into a human knot and spend then hour trying to get out. But as I began in vain attempt to free myself my phone burst to life.

"I WANNA BE THE VERY BEST! THAT NO ONE EVER—"

Thump.

Crash.

"Fuuu—Hello?"

"Dude, where the fuck have you been?"

Shit.

Everything that I had been trying to avoid last night was suddenly thrust onto me with that one, angry but simple sentence. And then I was struggling. Shoving off the blankets, I pushed myself off the floor where I'd fallen and stumbled to my feet. "Riku," I gasped, hating the way my voice cracked as I said his name. Like that wasn't a dead giveaway of my immense guilt, I continued to babble, "H-hey there buddy! Sorry, you're catching me in my underwear-I mean right out of bed! I mean I sleep in my underwear you see…"

But he didn't really seem to notice, "Why didn't you call me back last night?" He asked, his voice soft as the question rang out in the silence between us.

The question was sobering.

 

{But between the drinks and subtle things,  
the holes in my apologies…}

 

I wanted to say a lot of things right then. I think that anybody would if they had just gone through what I had and been asked something along these lines. There are three emotions that go along with being internally wounded. The first is shock.

"I…I didn't think that you cared that much," I told him feebly, barely able to keep my brain from running away from me. It was a numbing feeling, one that I didn't care to think about too closely to know that he was angry that I left him waiting. But my thoughts were ahead of me.

"Of course I care idiot!" He half shouted making me wince. It took him a moment to keep going, "You're my best friend, how do you think I'd feel if you just up and died with no kind of warning or message… You were supposed to call me when you got home!" He growled moodily. Riku was a moody kind of guy. That was something that you had to accept when you befriended him. But frankly, I'd had one hell of a night and I didn't want to sit there and let him reiterate the same speech about how reckless I was.

Which brings us into the second emotion.

Anger.

"Gee, I sure am sorry about that buddy," I sighed, my voice dripping with all the sarcasm that I was pouring out, "I guess with all of the smoke and blood clouding up my good senses, I sort of forgot to give you a good night phone call."

"Blood? What do you mean blood?" he demanded his voice rising once more, but it only fed my existing anger.

The response rippled out of me before I could cut it off, "Blood from the guy I killed asshole, I'm sure that Terra will tell you all about it seeing as you are so close. Sorry I didn't say goodnight!" I hissed ending the call, wishing that I had just stayed tangled in my sheets and turned my phone off before I'd fallen asleep. And then I was lost in the third emotion.

Overwhelming, heart wrenching depression.

 

{You know I'm trying hard to take it back!}

 

I only had a few seconds to regain my composure and pull on a pair of tattered jeans and a t-shirt before Ventus charged into my room looking his usual smart self. He looked very handsome in his plain black suit with his thin tie hanging loose around the callor of his white shirt that had been starched too hell by our mother. I always found it strange looking at him when he was like this, becoming professional for his complicated job that he wasn't really allowed to tell anyone about. Well anyone but Terra. But then again he told Terra everything. That's just how they worked. Most of us were too scared of our number one to have any real kind of relationship with him, but Ven was never fazed. In fact he was the only one of us who ever seemed to be able to call him out on his bullshit. He took pride in that, in being trusted and taken seriously. But I guess when you spend your life being looked at like you're some kind of freak, it's nice to be looked up to instead of down on. Whatever he did, I'm positive that he was good at it. It wasn't in Ven's nature to do anything half assed. He was too determined to prove himself. To eager to show what he had to give, and in a way, I liked to think that made him more dangerous than my empathy made me.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, running a hand gently over his carefully arranged spikes as he looked in my dresser mirror and then at me. He gave me that look. The one I hated. The one that was begging me to be okay without actually having to say anything. It was the look that always made me feel guilty for joining the Organization. The look he gave me when he found out that I'd made it. The look that made it seem like I was so lost that I was practically dead.

I turned away from him, grabbing two different colored socks I leaned down to shove them on my feet and slip into my blue converse. I knew that he wasn't exactly ecstatic about all of this. No one in our group ever really wanted this kind of life for me, especially Ven and Riku. I was an artist. I was anything but one of these vicious people that we were made out to be and that was unnerving. Nobody wanted their little Sora to become a heartless killer.

How do you think? I thought bitterly but chose not to bother with actually saying it out loud. It just wasn't worth the guilt. Instead I settled for, "I've been better…" in a breathy sigh, "I would feel more awesome if you let me go back to bed." I shrugged walking toward the door.

He snorted, "Fat chance."

"Can't blame a guy for trying." I told him with a smile that was almost genuine.

"I can actually…" He said grimly, voice dropping in volume, "And you can bet that Terra won't find you as amusing and innocent as I do, he'll-"

"You know I'm not really in the mood for a morning fuck up lecture Ven." I hissed at him, my hands fisting at my sides, "What would you have done if you were there? Just left him? Let him-"

"He wouldn't have risked the success of the mission to go back for a man who was already dead," Roxas piped in, walking out into the hallway in his hoodie and black jeans, "You see, Ven and I were born with something call common sense… guess it must have skipped over you midget. He would have kept running like he was damn well supposed to, he would have thought of all the men that he got out instead of the one left inside. "

"Roxas-" Ven started to scold him but our brother just held up his hand, eyes trained on me.

"He needs to hear this." He told him deftly, "Sora, being a part of something like this means that there is no room to play hero, you are a soldier and soldiers fallow orders. You need to realize that your actions reflect badly on all of us."

That rubbed me wrong, "How the hell does-"

"Shut up." He hissed taking a step closer, "You think that you can run around making everything better? You think that you can save everyone? Well that's bullshit. You can't save anyone but yourself Sora. People die, it's a part of war, but the next time you put yourself in that kind of danger I will hunt you down and kill you myself. Get it?"

"Fuck you Roxas…"

"Oh, great comeback-"

"Boys?"

We all jumped half a foot into the air as our father walked into the open space beside us and pierced us with his kind blue eyes… Dad… People told me all of the time how much I resembled him whenever we were forced to make face at political functions, showering me with comments like, "Oh what a lovely child!" and, "He seems to have a good head on his shoulders Zack." But, as much as it secretly made me happy, it put a pit right at the heart of my stomach when I thought about what I was doing on my free time….What would my dad think if he found out that his three good boys were just a spy, a techy and the face of retaliation?

"Hey dad!" I smiled a bit too cheerily after a brief glare at my brother, but he didn't seem to notice that anything was out of the ordinary. That made me a little sad. I had been lying about my emotions so long that it had become the norm…

He smiled back and waved us out of the hall, "Hurry up and come eat before your mother throws a fit," he chuckled with a wink, "You know how she hates it when things get cold." He was right. When dinner was left out for too long our mom would go absolutely insane, saying the whole lot was wasted and that it couldn't possibly be fixed. It was really kind of depressing. We all knew that it wasn't because of the food, it was because dad was never home… and ever since I became part of the Organization I hadn't been around much either.

"Just give us a second Pop," Ventus grinned at him, always the first to recover his good nature, "We're just giving Blue here some girl advice," he winked, pulling me to him and giving my shoulder a squeeze, completely and utterly aware of how red my face was turning.

Dad just smile, "Girl advice huh?" he chuckled, "Just don't leave us waiting too long. I'm sure that your mother would love to hear all about it." And with that he left us to fall back into our jumble of nerves.

And just like that we were eloped in our argument again. No words needed to say what we were all thinking as Roxas and I glared at each other, "You talk a lot of crap Rox…" I told him, my voice deathly low, "You act like you are all high and mighty sitting back in the bunker and telling us where to run, but that's just it. You watch! You have no idea what it's like to be back into the field, no idea what it feels like to have people's lives on your hands. So until you do, shut the hell up and stop acting like you know everything. I know you well enough to know that you wouldn't leave an innocent man to die." And then I walked after our father trying to seem as if I were excited for breakfast even though I really felt like I should be drinking myself dumb at a bar.

 

"So if by the time the bar closes and you feel like falling down…  
I'll carry you home…}

 

I hate running away from things, but Roxas was stubborn like that. He worked on something until he got exactly what he wanted and never settled for anything but; it was extremely aggravating… there was really nothing I could do about it when the house was alive with the buzz of the morning, bacon filling the air with a beautiful scent that made my mouth water like crazy. My mother is one of those people who always wanted to be a home maker. Being the perfect house wife was all that she ever aspired to be, and she totally had it down with the cooking and sweetness and all that stuff. But she couldn't mask the unhappiness that she sent at my father every time that she looked his way, his eyes trained on the television watching the footage from the night before. Fire bloomed on the television, making my eyes sink farther to the floor as I sank into my chair. Don't look guilty; I told myself sternly, don't give them any reason to think that you had a part in this. My father shook his head, turning to the coffee that had just been placed down next to him, "It's bad parenting, that's all this is." He met my mother's gaze, not seeing how bright her eyes got at the contact, " Just a couple of kids that got mad at the world and are now taking it out on society." He sighed as I bit into my toast with a loud crunch, trying hard to bite back the remarks that I wanted to make in our defense. It would only be a pointless use of my breath… and I really wasn't in the mood to fight with him today.

"He could have killed us all," said the guard to the news caster, the art museum smoking behind him, the very sight of it hurting my throat. "I thought for sure we were goners, but… he just knocked us out and when we woke up, they were gone and we were right next to the door." He looked at the man with a slight smile, "I guess I'm still in shock that he cared." He looked straight out at the camera, "I don't know if you're watching, but thank you… from all of us and our families, thank you for our lives."

I looked down at my eggs to hide the small smile that the comment gave me, thinking about how Riku and Terra would be watching this with their families. Maybe they would finally get it. They would finally understand that all people need to work… All of them have to do something no matter who it was for and they shouldn't be killed just because we knew how to play with fire. "Well it looks like at least one of them has parents that taught them right." My mom told my father, not bothering to hide her smile. Sometimes when my father got all high and mighty on how good the Kingdom had been to us, she would beat him back down with what they didn't do for others. I think that maybe I got my rebellious streak from my mother, because if she could find a reason to justify it, she would do the same thing that I did. But of course she wouldn't dare say what she really thought with my father in the room.

My happiness didn't last very long though as the camera found its way back to the grim faced reported behind the safety of his desk. "Sadly it seems that one of the night guards wasn't as fortunate as his fellow employees." My heart stopped just before it kicked into overtime, gaze fixated on the man in the screen. "The body of Reno Ember was found just outside of the scene, his body severely crushed and blood all around him. Doctors that arrived at in the ally had this to say."

It switched to a tall man in scrubs with spiky, white blond hair and kind grey eyes, standing in the exact ally that I had been just hours ago. I could feel Ventus' eyes trained on me, but it didn't matter, Mom and Dad were just as captivated as I was. "His body suffered some very serious trauma, but it's nothing that the rebels should be capable off. There was too much damage for this to be done by amateurs. Also the body shows signs of an attempted revival, one that almost worked. Now I don't care who these kids are or what they've done, this wasn't a murder, it was an attempted rescue. And quite frankly, if I could meet the kid I'd like to shake his hand."

I feel like I should have felt better about that. Like this emission was supposed to take away my guilt but it just didn't. It couldn't. I was the scout, I was the guy who had given the all clear and this man's head was mine. He was my kill. No matter how I tried to keep him alive, A young man died because of me.

 

{Tonight,  
We are young!  
So let's set the world on fire!  
We can burn brighter-  
Than the sun!}

 

I pushed my food around on my plate, my appetite suddenly gone despite how hungry I had been just a few minutes earlier. And then I was aware of just how bad I felt. I was freezing; my stomach was churning and there was a thin veil of sweat on my face. The food I was chewing turned to glue in my mouth and my throat got too dry to swallow correctly. It hurt on the way done, but somehow I managed it before I pushed the plate away from me. "Something wrong baby?" My mother asked me with her big beautiful grey-blue eyes that she shared only with Roxas. "I made all your favorites, does it taste strange?"

"Oh, no momma, it all tastes great." I reassured her, feeling even guiltier if that were possible. "I'm just not feeling very well today," I told her with a forced smile that played well into the whole 'sick' thing.

She was out of her chair in a heartbeat, giving me a swift kiss on my forehead. "It's a mother's trick." She told me once a long time ago, "You're lips are some of the most sensitive skin on your body, it's better than any thermometer!" But there were no smiles today. "Oh honey, you're burning up!" she gasped, taking my cheeks in her hand and looking into my eyes before she turned to her husband, "Zack honey come feel his head."

"Mom…" I flushed crimson, hating the way that my brothers were smirking at me, though at least Ventus had the good grace to look concerned, "I don't think that-"

But it was too late, my father turned the chair around so that I was facing him and then again, I was kissed on the forehead and completely mortified. I could hear Roxas chuckling now and refused to look at him. This was the worst part about being the baby of the family. Every little thing that happened to me was treated as if I were about to die, usually in the most embarrassing way possible. But even though I had used sickness as a cover up, I had to admit that I really wasn't feeling all that hot. And even with the guilt and lack of sleep, the attention was nice.

"Hmmmm… Well he definitely has a fever." My father looked up at my mom and then the pair of them were looking at me, contemplating what to do.

"Maybe I should take him to the clinic?" My mother suggested, "My book club isn't until three and I have plenty of time."

But my father shook his head, "No, you'd be waiting in line for an hour before you even got to speak to the front desk. I guess I could call in and take him to our doctor."

"But he's always so busy, and it's a Saturday." She chimed in.

"How about I take him to the castle with me?" Ventus asked innocently, looking only at me, "Dr. Strife usually has Saturdays off, but he lives at the castle and he owes me a favor. I'm sure he wouldn't mind a check up." He shrugged taking a good long draft of coffee. Our parents looked at each other and just like that, the plan was set, no questions asked. Ventus had dance right over that gaping hole of a problem as gracefully as if he flew.

 

{Tonight,  
We are young!  
So let's set the world on fire-  
We can burn brighter,  
Than the sun.}

 

"You'll call me if it's anything serious right?" Our mother asked Ventus as she helped me shrug on a second jacket to stop me from shivering.

"Of course Mom," he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and led me out the door, her watching worriedly behind us. But he kept his cool until the elevator doors closed us in and then, for some ungodly reason he kissed my forehead too.

I tried to shove him away, but I just didn't have the willpower, "I'm fine, Ven. Just get offa me!" I huffed but he was frowning as he looked back at me.

"You're sweltering." He muttered grimly turning to look at the doors as they opened up. He made for them, but I swayed slightly and he caught my arm, "Common, we should hurry before I end up having to carry you there."

The car that was waiting for us outside the building was a white Van with no windows. On the outside it could be anything, just a crappy beat up car waiting to make a delivery. But as the door opened to the plush back and we stepped in I knew that there was a reason for its ratty outer coating. One of the first rules that we had in the Organization was to steer clear of these. To get as far away as possible from the people that drive them and hope that they don't register your face. Demyx liked to call these 'Gummi Ships'. Partially because he was weird, but mostly because when you got sucked into one, you were stuck. Like Gum or glue. You always saw people get into them and go behind the castle wall, but never did you see anybody come back out.

No one but Ven.

I let my head knock against the cool glass of the window as we drove farther into the center of town, over pot holes and cracks in the road. In an odd way, the pain was sort of soothing, it took the rest of it – all the guilt and sorrow – and put it in a little safe box in my mind, away from anything else. Untouchable. And with the slight bumps rocking me I drifted to sleep.

 

{Now I know that I'm not all that you got-}

 

There were two things that I was vaguely aware of as I slowly swam back to consciousness. The most immediate one was that I was being carried. I could feel myself being rocked by someone else's footsteps, carried farther and farther into a place I did not know. It was a comforting feeling that reminded me of how my father would carry me to my bed when I was little after I fell asleep on the couch. In fact, it was so cozy that I allowed myself to stay there, eyes closed and snuggling into the sweet scent of freshly laundered fabric completely happy. At least I would have been happy if I hadn't been shivering so damn hard.

I opened my eyes as my teeth chattered through my skull, looking into Ven's crisp white shirt and my ears slowly adjusted to the conversation going on around me. "And you said he was where exactly?" The familiar voice startled me, but I was too tired and cold to really care. All I knew was that I knew this voice, I had heard it very recently… my mind just couldn't take me to the source.

"He was in the fire last night," Ventus sighed, his voice straining but not from my weight, this was something emotional. "He started the fire actually, but he got wound up with a man that got caught inside and ended up sucking blood out of his mouth to try and keep him from drowning."

"So this is him huh?" The man seemed maybe a little awed at the thought, "It's too back he isn't conscious, I would have loved to…" He paused for a moment. "The blood…Shit!" The man hissed and then the walking got faster, and before I knew it I was in a room that felt bright even with my eyes closed and placed in a cool hard bed. I let my eyes sag open for a moment as I watched the stranger that seemed so familiar rustle around in some drawers until he found a little light that he turned on me, making me close my eyes again.

"What is it?" Ventus demanded after a moment of quiet and probing, "What's wrong?"

"It's a biological weapon." The stranger told him as he rattled about more and I allowed myself to watch him. "They disguised it as a vaccination that they were giving away to government employees. Completely harmless until mixed with two separate blood types but then it turns into a poison that slowly makes its way into your system." He grunted as he shoved a needle into my arm, something I would have objected to if I could move, but I felt entirely too heavy.

"Shit…" Ventus growled, "Shit, shit, shit!" he breathed shaken, "Is there anything you can do?!"

"I can try and stop the poison from spreading. But we'll have to do a transfusion." By this time whatever he shot into my arm was making me dizzy and I was starting to drift again. "And even then, "He started from under the water in my ears, "It takes a strong heart to get through this. Do you know his blood type?"

"B positive." Ventus said automatically making me wonder idly how he knew that off the top of his head when I wasn't even aware. "Do you have enough of it?"

"No, I'm afraid with all of the attacks lately that's not one we have in high supply…"

"I could get my father, he-"

"And tell him what Ventus? That your brother burned down the hall of portraits?"

"I'll think of something!" he huffed and they were both quiet for a moment as I fell into a deeper into the imaginary water. And then-

"What about-"

I was asleep.

 

{I guess that I- I just thought…  
Maybe we could find a way to fall apart!}

 

It was hot. Too hot when I finally felt my eyes flutter open after the induced coma saw fit to let me go. I groaned and stretched my legs out from the ball I had curled myself into, feeling the bones pop in a wonderfully agonizing way. I felt like I had run a marathon, any strength that I had been able to retain from yesterday sapped out of me before it had the chance to do any damage control. But other than that I felt good. Weak, but no longer sick like I had when we got to the-

The Castle. I was in the castle.

I sat up immediately, body responding to the shiver that made its way up my spine and back down as I let my eyes adjust to the dim room. This wasn't a hospital. It didn't even look like a clinic. In fact, more than anything it looked like a beautifully furnished hotel, one that you would be afraid to touch anything in and ruin it with your finger prints. Everything was grand; from the plush bed that I was lying in covered in a deep maroon comforter with, what I suspected was, real gold threading; to the unnecessary chandelier hanging above the sitting room area where Ventus lay sprawled on the couch looking ruffled even in his sleep. I frown looking at him. He had light purple bruises under his eyes as if he'd been up for days when it was really just a few hours ago that I had… A few hours…How long had it really been?

I arched my back in attempt to reach my phone from my back pocket but found that I couldn't lift my arms. Both of them had been tethered down by a like a Velcro straps placed at the writs and elbow crease, a needle tapped into each of my forearms and the large veins there. Blood was pouring out of one and into the other causing me to turn my head and groan. It seemed that no matter what I did, I could not escape this sight, the ruby red color of blood haunting my every thought.

But it wasn't the blood that captivated me or the contraption that I had been hooked up to. It was the boy. The one asleep in the chair beside me. The boy with vibrant red hair, tied back with a rubber band. The boy with triangle tattoos under both of his eyes. A boy who looked so odd in the magnificent surroundings in just a pair of washed out jeans and a crimson v-neck t-shirt. He had a strong look about him, defined jaw line and good build, but his length made him look regal. Royal. Familiar? Threatening. Or he would have seemed a threat if he hadn't been hooked up to the contraption at his arm as well.

I sat up the best I could and cleared my throat loudly. It was too far away for Ventus to hear me but the stranger stirred, giving me an odd, groggy look as he met my gaze. Relief seemed to flood through him under his cocky, assholish appeal for some unknown reason and I wondered idly how long I had been unconscious. A couple hours? All day? I turned to the window and saw that the sun was just going down, streaks of pink and orange painting the sunset in a way that made my fingers itch. I was no longer cold. I felt entirely too warm, the blankets piled on top of me where unwelcome and I had no way of getting them off until someone cut my restraints. "Hey," I turned back to the red head that seemed to be sizing me up, "Do you think you could…" I motioned at the restraints with my chin raising an eye brow.

He sat back in his chair with a very openly skeptical look about him, "I donno…" He muttered scratching his chin that was slightly stubbly with his free hand, "How do I know that you aren't some kind of psychopath and won't eat my face as soon as I set you free?"

I laughed despite myself at his attempted jab and shook my head, "Do I look like I'm on bath salts to you?"

"No, not really. More of a heroin problem," he smirked at me before he frowned again, "But I don't see any track marks… and frankly, you're a little young for a full blood transfusion so you wanna tell me what's going on?"

It was my turn to frown as I turned toward my brother, watching him dose quietly unable to bring myself to disturb him for information, "I was actually hoping that you could tell me." I sighed meeting his vibrant green eyes. Wow, were they green…

"I'm afraid I'm just an innocent volunteer with a compatible blood type," He shrugged good-naturedly with a winning smile. "Anything for a citizen," He joked with a royal air in his voice making me laugh lightly.

"Who are you anyway?" I asked him struggling to keep still. But he just smiled and leaned forward to unstrap my right arm and shake my hand. And it was then that I knew. Right then I knew why he looked so familiar.

"Let's just say I'm a friend, hm?" He shook my hand firmly and looked at me expectantly. The same look that the other red-headed man had given me as I tried to pump life back into him. The look that he gave me right before I failed.

 

{But our friends are back!  
So let's raise a glass,  
Cause I found someone to carry me home-

Tonight,  
We are young!  
So let's set the world on fire!  
We can burn brighter-  
Than the sun!}


End file.
